In Dreams
by summerstwilight
Summary: Um, this is just a really random pseudo parody I did. It's really not easily summerized Just read.
1. Daydreams

Title: In Dreams  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: OC/J, but not like you're thinking.  
Warning: This is a parody. Do not let the first chapter scare you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean: that would be Disney and the screenwriters. I also don't own the concept of the 'Mary Sue.' That... well, I don't know who owns that.

A/N: I was reading through the comments on the lj community marysues, and someone remarked that Mary Sue wouldn't act like she does in most of these fics: she'd be sailing, or doing dishes, or being raped, or something. So here's what the plot bunnies gave me.

In Dreams

Ashling Dubhan gazed out over the sea. It shimmered like a thousand diamonds in the soft moonlight. A soft breeze gently caressed the raven hair that had inspired her family name. Her green eyes were the color of emeralds, emeralds that recalled the sharp greens of her native Ireland. She hugged herself against the sharpening breeze, which cut through her thin shawl. She looked down at her appearance and could not help but sigh. The long flowing black skirt had sustained damage in her flight, and was covered in salt that had dried from the sea spray. Her green shirt had faded from the salt and sun, and the shawl that covered her rather ineffectively was torn in several places. Suddenly, a worn coat was tossed over her shoulders.

"Here, love." a voice purred in her ear. She smiled to herself and turned to face Captain Jack Sparrow, pirate at large. Her black hair curled softly around her face and the moonlight spilled onto her upturned face.

"Thank you Captain." She replied softly

"Twas nothing." Jack brushed her thanks off like he would brush a bug off his sleeve. "Ye looked cold."

"I was." She turned back out to sea. "Ireland is cold, but never like this." She sighed. "I do miss it so."

"I know what you mean, love." Jack stood next to her at the rail. He gently caressed the warn wood of the Pearl. "I lost my Pearl for near ten years. Didn't know if I'd ever see her again."

"Jack Sparrow giving up on something?" Ashling asked, slightly amused, a small smile gracing her face. "I don't believe it."

"Oh, I believed I'd see her again." Jack looked over his Pearl, soaking in her every detail as though he were not long for this earth. "I just didn't trust that she would be mine when I did."

"Then you know how I feel about Ireland." She nodded. "I suspect that is why you agreed to help me. Ireland is rather out of your normal route."

"Aye, that was part of it." Jack looked at Ashling, a look in his eye that he could not place. She timidly locked eyes with him, and in that instant, she saw into his soul.

"You love me." She gasped, comprehending.

"Yes, love you more then I loved anyone. My love for you is deeper then the ocean, greater then the sky. I love you more then I love the Pearl." Jack confessed. His words came in a rush, as though he could not bear his secret for a moment longer. Ashling reached one small, white hand up and cupped Jack's suntanned cheek, wiping a tear from it.

"I know what it is to love something as you love the Pearl. That love runs deeper then most. It is not easily topped. Yet, I feel the same for you as you do for me." She blinked her own tears back. Jack reached over and wiped a stray tear, shining like a diamond in the moonlight, away from her cheek. Slowly, he reached in and kissed her gently on the lips. She closed her eyes, unable to contain her happiness if she had left them open. And over the two lovers, the stars kept watch. Under them, the sea rocked gently, murmuring its approval. Around them, the sea air lightly caressed them, bringing something of Ireland back to the lost girl.


	2. Nightmares

Title: In Dreams  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: OC/J, but not like you're thinking.  
Warning: This is a parody. Do not let the first chapter scare you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean: that would be Disney and the screenwriters. I also don't own the concept of the 'Mary Sue.' That... well, I don't know who owns that.

In Dreams

Chapter 2

Ashley stirred slightly. It was such a lovely dream. She was Irish and on the same ship as Jack Sparrow, and he had kissed her! Her hand absently strayed to her usually curly brown hair. It had been teased and plastered into an absolute mess by sea air, sand, and ocean water. 'That is going to take _weeks_ to come out.' She thought mentally.

"That's the last time I fall asleep on the beach." She mumbled.

"What was that love?"

Ashley's eyes flew open. Instead of the sandy white beach she had last seen, she was inside what appeared to be a small wooden cabin. On a bed. With a pair of eyes looking at her curiously. Two kohl rimmed eyes. Eyes that looked remarkably like...

"Oh my GOD!" she screamed, sitting bolt upright. Looking around, she found that she was, indeed, in a cabin, a cabin that appeared to be part of a ship. And there, sitting next to her, smug look on his face, was Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Nononononono." she said. "This" she waved her hand to indicate everything she saw. "This is a dream. It has to be a dream. You're-you're not real!"

Jack frowned. "I look real enough, don't I? I was real enough last night. Now, shall we get down to business? Wish I hadn't dropped off last night, looks like you're not a morning person."

"What business?"

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. Ashley covered her mouth and flopped back on the pillow. "This is not happening to me. Not happening. Nope, not happening. I'm going to wake up now, and you'll be gone, and I'll be buried up to my neck in sand but that's okay because I won't be in the same cabin as Captain Jack Sparrow, he thinks I'm someone who sells herself."

"Come, come, love. You can't dress like that and not expect people to think you're a whore."

Ashley sputtered. "Don't say that word. And certainly don't say it to me."  
"Whore? What about wench then? Is wench all right?" Jack clearly did not take her seriously.

"No! Wench is _not_ all right! I'm nothing of the kind."

"Then why are you wandering around in scarlet under things?" Jack leered at her, eyes running up and down her. Ashley clutched the blanket to her chest, though it did not seem to deter the captain.

"What are you talking about?" Ashley looked down and found that she was clothed in the same thing as when she'd apparently gone around the bend of insanity.

"Are you talking about my suit?" she asked. "It's not _that_ bad."

Jack chocked with laughter. "Not that bad? I've seen whores more dressed then that. Sorry, wenches. I forgot your aversion to 'that word'."

"It's just a two piece swim suit. So what if it's red?"

"Clearly you're more daft then _I_ am, which is rather hard to do, I might add. Red is the color of the harlot. And most of them will at least cover their stomach. And their arms. And their legs, actually. I've bedded ladies more dressed then you." Jack clearly thought this whole situation quite amusing. Ashley disagreed.

"Then I don't know what you'd do on a topless beach." She said, highly disgruntled. Jack simply smiled wide. It reminded Ashley of the Cheshire Cat. That was certainly not a good thing. "Find me some clothes then, if you're a gentleman."

Jack laughed harder then he had before. "Gentleman? I just admitted to bedding many a wench and you think me a gentleman? Clearly, you have drunk far more rum then anyone should. Except maybe me." He flashed the same smile. Ashley got up indignantly, blanket still wrapped around her as a sort of shield, and marched out of the cabin onto the deck.

That was her greatest mistake in the whole misadventure. Pirates are not gentleman, despite what you may have read. Some have the taste of gentlemen, which simply means they rape, pillage, and plunder only the very rich instead of whatever ship they happen upon. The pirates of the Black Pearl, however, good souls though they may have been, were not gentlemen pirates. Ashley was assailed by offers from all sides. Everywhere she turned, she saw another leering face. Clutching her blanket to her chest and turning, she tried to avoid the stares she couldn't help getting. Unnerved, she fled, running through double doors to a great sitting room, slamming the doors behind her. She looked around, hoping not to see anyone.

"They're a bunch of blackguards." A voice came from the corner. "A woman is something to be bedded to them. Unless you prove your worth." The possessor of the voice stepped out of the shadows. She was a darker skinned woman, probably Cajun, if Ashley had to guess. The woman made her way across the cabin toward Ashley.

"Anamaria." She said by way of introduction. "And I've no idea who you are or where you came from, but you're far enough out to water you're drowning."

Ashley looked at Anamaria confused. "I'm Ashley. And I have no idea what I'm doing here either."

"Well, since ye're here, you might as well make yourself useful. Can you sew?"

"No."

"Cook?"

"No."

"Well blast, girl, what can you do?"

"Um...read? And swim. And use a computer. Oh, but you wouldn't know what that is."

"Right." Anamaria gave Ashley a look that clearly said 'You're crazy, woman.' Anamaria sighed. "Well, you'll be on board at least a couple of weeks, so you might as well learn to do something. But don't count on being very well protected. You haven't proved yourself, you're no one's relation. I'd lock my door at night if I were you."

"You think I'll get a room?"

"I think you'll get a makeshift bordello, but that's not for me to say. I sleep in here." she pointed to the corner. "You can sleep over there, if you don't get another cabin. Your clothes, if you can call them that, need a little work." She studied Ashley's outfit, and Ashley began to see what was wrong with it. It was a cute two piece bathing suit in fire engine red, matched with red board shorts and black flip flops. Her hair was a disaster almost beyond repair. It looked like she'd just walked off a beach. 'Well' she thought to herself 'I _did_ just walk off a beach. It just happens that that beach is located several hundred years in the future.'

"Well, you may as well learn to sew while you get yourself some decent clothes. You're light enough; you might be able to go up in the sails. After, of course, you know what the bloody hell a sail is." Anamaria walked over to a pile of canvas and picked up some of the material, as well as a needle and some course thread. She shoved them at Ashley.

"Ye might make yourself pants and a shirt. I might have some linen for a shirt, but you'll make due with the canvas otherwise." She said sternly.

"Thank you." Ashley stammered, looking down dubiously at the pile of material.


End file.
